


When you wake up tomorrow

by Ivyfics (ivyfics)



Series: Drunk Kuroo [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dorks in Love, M/M, Stupid Proposals, drunk kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 09:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17915912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyfics/pseuds/Ivyfics
Summary: In Kuroo’s defense, it has been a long while since they’d had to collectively endure this. So long that everyone assumed whatever freak fluke made it happen was over and done with for good. They’d be laughing and tipsy and mockingly ribbing each other with,“Remember when Kuroo would forget Tsukki existed and flirted with him all night long, even after they got together? What a dork!”They were all wrong.It’s back, and it’s worse than ever.Kuroo still forgets Kei sometimes. What a dick.





	When you wake up tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I don't know.

Kei is done. He’s  _ so _ done. “I’m done,” he says. 

Around him, the music has reached a point of volume that has Kei’s temples throbbing. Either that or he’s lost all patience and disposition for a night out. He’s never been big on them, but Kuroo loves the atmosphere and it’s rubbed off on Kei in the five years they’ve been together. 

He’s only grateful Oikawa couldn’t make it this time, or he’d be ready to murder someone by now.

Akaashi rolls his eyes where he sits next to Kuroo. “Trust me, it’s worse on this end.” 

Kei doesn’t blame him. 

Music aside, Akaashi has been right in the middle between Kei and Kuroo since before his insufferable boyfriend’s body decided that an extra half a beer was one half too many and pulled its usual stunt of completely forgetting about Kei and everything related to him. Including their entire relationship. 

Just like that, sippy-sip, and five years are down the proverbial drain. 

Kei and Akaashi had been talking (gossiping) about a common friend of theirs when Kuroo started his attack—nay, his barrage of terrible drunken flirting with his own damn boyfriend. 

The song playing unbelievably loud switches to something more frantic and high pitched and Kei winces, turning to look where Kuroo is happily chatting with Bokuto, who he  _ didn’t _ forget at all. Bastard. “If he didn’t hit on me every time I’d be upset that I’m the only one he forgets.” 

In Kuroo’s defense, it has been a long while since they’d had to collectively endure this. So long that everyone assumed whatever freak fluke made it happen was over and done with for good. They’d be laughing and tipsy and mockingly ribbing each other with,  _ “Remember when Kuroo would forget Tsukki existed and flirted with him all night long, even after they got together? What a dork!”  _

They were all wrong. 

It’s back, and it’s worse than ever. 

Thankfully they’re over the most embarrassing part, he thinks. Kuroo has decided to take a break from raining down weird compliments and broken pick-up lines at Kei. Instead, he’s taken to eyeing him for a while, swiping very not-discreet glances in his direction even as he is in conversation with Bokuto. Kei can feel every pass of his eyes like a physical caress. 

Kuroo is terrible at flirting. He’s so bad it’s funny. It pisses Kei off that he finds it charming, and flattering. Kuroo tries too hard, way over what someone with his looks and his entire vibe should. He found that out the hard way, with awkward first dates and stalled conversations until they found their rhythm and forgot about there being a time where they weren’t together. 

This Kuroo in front of him is  _ dangerous. _ It’s the Kuroo that forgets to try to flirt and just exists in the conversation. Interested eyes, tilted head. That smirk is always up to no good. The Kuroo that got them over the quirky late afternoon dates and into a messy, sloppy fuck with most of their clothes still on for the first time. 

It was pretty fucking great. 

The past five years have been pretty fucking great, too.

Kuroo decides looking isn’t involved enough and after slapping a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, he turns his full attention back on Kei. The up-and-down Kuroo gives him with his eyes makes Kei feel the blush all the way to his ears. 

“I should go do that to my own boyfriend.” Akaashi gives him a shit eating grin and leaves him alone with a Kuro that is eyefucking him so hard Kei is not comfortable being out in public while it happens. 

“Stop it,” he hisses when Kuroo seats himself in front of  Kei. 

Kuroo leans back. Spreads his legs in a way that gives Kei way too many ideas. “Stop what? I’m not doing anything. I’m just sitting here.”

Kei finishes the last of his drink to distract himself from Kuroo.

And Kuroo’s thighs. 

And the way he’s leaning his elbows on his knees while a whiff of his colognes hits Kei hard in the gut. Kei slams his empty glass on the side table. “You know what you did.” 

Kuroo laughs, throaty and all real enjoyment. Kei loves that laugh on him, the one that is not absolute screeching and indescribable sounds flinging out of Kuroo’s throat. 

(He loves that one, too. Don’t tell anyone.)

Kuroo reaches out and touches his cheek, light as a feather. Kei’s stomach drops and he all but melts into the seat at the gesture. “Your voice is really nice, I want to hear more of it. Let me buy you another drink?” 

Usually, he plays along. Lets Kuroo get over his shitty flirting, into the good stuff and then sober enough so they can get home and go at it like crazy people. Usually. He’ll admit he likes the chase Kuroo gives, likes to feel that wanted by someone who already owns all of his affection.  

Tonight Kei is a little mean. Kuroo is far too good at turning him into mush and his head hurts—less now that Kuroo’s distracted him—and he’s the tiniest bit buzzed so he says, “I have a boyfriend.”

Kuroo’s hand drops. He looks like the most disappointed puppy in existence. “Oh.” 

Instead of pouting and prodding, he draws back. Kei expects a lot of things, an ‘ _ it’s just one drink _ ,’ or ‘ _ why isn’t he here’ _ or anything else resembling other things he’s heard tonight from other people before Kuroo showed up and staked his claim with an almost-suave arm around Kei’s shoulder and a smoother, bolder kiss to his lips.

He expects a lot of things, but not Kuroo drawing back from where he leaned in and throwing out a morose, “Sorry to bother you, then.”

He turns his legs away from Kei, stares down at the seat away from him awkwardly. 

What. 

Just like that, nothing. 

“Didn’t you want to buy me a drink?”

Kei is fishing. He doesn’t care. 

Kuroo’s head shakes and his shoulders follow the motion. He flashes Kei a half-pathetic smile. “I don’t hit on people who are taken and I don’t think I could stop myself with you.” His eyes take this soft edge to them, familiar in all the ways Kei knows. “Quite a lucky guy he is, too.”

Kei can’t take this. He’s so, so cute. Kei swallows, hard. Barely gets it out.  “Kuroo. Kuroo, you’re my boyfriend, you potato.” 

Kuroo’s head snaps up violently. “What. Me?”

“Yes,” Kei hisses. 

“ _ Your _ boyfriend. You.” Kuroo points at him with a shaky finger. When Kei only nods in agreement he slaps Bokuto’s thigh hard. Keeps slapping until Bokuto’s mouth detaches from Akaashi’s and he turns to them with a dopey look.  “Kou, Kou. I’m his boyfriend?”

“Ah. Yeah, dude.” 

“No waaaaaaaaaay. Dude! For real?”

Kei’s head throbs harder. He’s in love with a dumbass. Gone is dangerous, suave Kuroo. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “How does this keep happening? We’ve been together five years.”

“Five years!? Five whole years!? I have  _ so much game _ — “

“You really don’t,” Kenma interrupts, dropping himself in the seat next to Kei’s and dragging Yamamoto with him by their linked hands. Yamamoto nods when his butt meets the barely there cushion, setting down his drink. “It’s a miracle I convinced him to ask you out.” 

Kuroo pouts, which usually gets him nowhere when Kei is stone-cold sober but under the lights and the buzz of alcohol, it's undecidedly doing something to aid his good graces. He worries at his lip. “That doesn’t sound good. Are you sure we’re dating? Like, you like me?” 

Kei does. He wholeheartedly does, somehow. Kuroo stole his affections by being an absolute dork and has only made Kei like him more as time passes. Then again, as it has been established before, he’s a little mean so he says, “No.”

Kuroo’s face falls. “Yo-You don’t…”

Kei continues. “I love you, and when you asked me if I wanted to live together with you I said yes, sure. But  _ like  _ you? Debatable.”

“Love me! Wait, we live together? In the same apartment?“

“Yeah, we share a living room and a laundry basket. Crazy, right?”

Kuroo looks down at his hands, awed. His brain is processing all this “new” information at the slowest speed. Kei can practically see the wheels turning. It’s flattering, thinking about how much he affects Kuroo, even when the idiot’s brain malfunctions and doesn’t know who he is. 

So he has a soft spot for his boyfriend, so what? Kei lays his drink down and moves to sit next to Kuroo. He scooches as close as he can until their thighs are touching and sharing heat, his breath hitting Kuroo’s ear with how he leans into their shared space. 

Kuroo looks a nanosecond away from combusting, the mean streak living in Kei’s heart reveling at the sight. “Can I tell you a secret? You can’t tell anyone else. No yelling, either.”

Kuroo swallows hard enough for Kei to hear. He nods. 

So, so cute. Such a dumbass. Kei loves him so much. He reaches for his pocket and starts, “I have something for you. I’ve had it for a while...”

* * *

Kuroo wakes up slowly, wishing to die and to have someone hose him down because he’s  _ sticky _ for some godforsaken reason. Last night is blurry at best and swirling in a murky void of darkness and alcohol at worst.

All Kuroo has are flashes of dancing and laying his head down on Kei’s shoulder when he was too tired to sit upright. Yelling. Maybe a kiss? He’s not entirely sure.  It’s been a while since he’s been that drunk. He walks past where Lola is perched on the kitchen counter, patting her shiny ceramic head with a little too much force and winces. “Sorry, Lola.” 

Kei wasn’t in bed with him when he woke, which is always a shame. Kuroo loves his morning cuddles when Kei’s had a bit too much to drink and huddles closer until the morning sun has softened a little. Although, he isn’t sure Kei was also drunk?

Kei suffers through hangovers even worse than he does, so no doubt if he was even a little bit inebriated he’d still be underneath the blankets and asking (whining) for something cold to drink. 

Shit, Tetsurou needs something cold to drink right now. Like  _ right now _ . Maybe wash off some of the sticky on the inside of his throat. Cold drink, then coffee, then soup, then a shower and long date with his toothbrush. 

He beelines for the fridge instead of the couch where the original plan was to lay down and just. Not exist until Kei showed up. 

There are a lot of gaps in his memory of last night. He should probably ask if he did anything embarrassing. There have been a lot of those, like the infinite amount of times he’s forgotten about Kei or that one time when he and Bokuto got dared to make out as a joke but they did it anyway. 

Akaashi almost had a stroke at that! Even after getting a free pass to—

Glinting, he sees it. Lets the fridge door do a slow close while his hand hovers in midair, splayed wide and sporting a polished black band around his ring finger. It’s—beautiful, elegant and understated in a classy manner that screams Tsukishima Kei in every possible way, including the small engraved  _ “T.K”   _ facing Tetsurou. 

He’d really like to describe it more, really,  but his eyes are too blurry with tears to pay any more attention to details. 

“Good morning.” The arms around his waist are lighter than his and the black band adorning Kei’s left hand contrasts beautifully. Kuroo blinks until his eyes clear and the “ _ K.T _ ” engraved on it comes into focus. “Why are you crying?”

“Because—”Kuroo’s voice breaks on a whine—”we got engaged and I can’t remember shit about it.”

Kei hums. “Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you should stop forgetting  _ things _ when you drink.”

Kuroo hiccups. “You did this on purpose.”

Kei laughs in his ear. Kisses him loudly on that spot between his neck and his jaw that he likes. “Five years, bitch. Revenge is mine,” he whispers. 

If Kei’s revenge is the promise to spend a lifetime together then Tetsurou should really screw up more often. 

**Author's Note:**

> When Kei wakes up the next day: oh m y god I actually proposed while he was drunk in a bar with shitty music 
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ivyfics) for more stupid things.


End file.
